There’s a piece on Bobby D the New Yorker in the L.A. Times Magazine. Check it outski.

Parsley and Pancetta salad. I’m a sucker for parsley, guess it’s the French in me.

This looks worth trying…from Saveur.

Over at the Times, Janet Maslin reviews a new biography of Bobby Fischer by Frank Brady:

“Endgame” is a rapt, intimate book, greatly helped by its author’s long acquaintance with Fischer, who died in 2008, and his deep grounding in the world of chess. Mr. Brady was the founding editor of Chess Life, the official magazine of the United States Chess Federation, but his book is entirely accessible to readers who have never heard of that publication. Nor does “Endgame” require any prior knowledge of chess luminaries, chess strategies (no charts here) or chess tournament etiquette. It requires no expertise to appreciate a one-liner like the one the 19-year-old Fischer delivered after a visit to a brothel in Curaçao. “Chess is better,” Fischer said.

Mr. Brady, a biographer dangerously drawn to megalomania (he has also written books about Aristotle Onassis and Orson Welles), takes a demystifying approach to Fischer’s eccentricities. He sees the person behind the bluster, and he presents that person in a reasonably realistic light. Mr. Brady also makes use of unusually good source material, from Fischer’s own unpublished manuscript to 50 years’ worth of his own conversations with Fischer’s associates, mentors and relatives. Note the omission of the word “friends.” Fischer never had them.

Fischer was a genius as well as a madman. Do yourself a favor and check out Bill Nack’s terrific SI piece on his search for the reclusive Fischer: “To find him, to see him, had become a kind of crazy and delirious obsession, the kind of insanity that has hounded other men in search of, say, the Loch Ness monster.”

[Photo Credit: Times On-Line]

Caught this on Saturday at the Times Square subway station. Dig Susan Keser’s website and listen to her play:

“It’s supposed to hurt,” said Rex Ryan after the AFC championship game last night.

Bitterly cold in New York today, the coldest day of the winter so far.

Baseball is coming…not soon enough for most of us but it’ll be here before we know it. Excited?

Naturally.

I know the thinking goes the Yanks’ 2011 hopes ride on whether or not A.J. Burnett has a strong season, but Mark Teixeira is my guy. I expect him to have a strong year–and a good start to boot. If he’s a monster, the Yanks sure will be tough. Over at It’s About the Money, Stupid, Mark Smith looks for Teixeria and Alex Rodriguez to rebound in 2011. Who do you think are the key players to watch?

[Pictures by Bags and Alex B]

Engine room, bring me my drink.

Same ol’ Jets, indeed.

[Picture by Bags]

They’ve been here before…be nice to see the Jets finally make it to the Super Bowl. Whadda ya say, Green? Winner gets Green Bay.

It won’t be easy against the Steelers but we’ll be root-root-rootin’ them on!

And that’s word to Wesley Walker:

Game One: The Great Rivalry Continues…Nagurski, Nitschke, Butkus, Bears, Brats, Brews…You gotta love it.

Chow Down:

Word to Pete Rock:

[Photo Credit: How Cook Like a Wolf]

Cold Sunday morning in New York. Take it away, Johnny:

Or here’s the original by Robert Service:

Brought to you by our pal, Matt B.

Well, sometimes you make a plan and while it might not be popular, you stick by the plan, you lay low, and then…you blow it all up. The Angels have been criticized this winter for not doing enough, but last night they went out and traded for Vernon Wells. Not just that, they are picking up the rest of his seemingly unmovable contract. MLB Trade Rumors collects some reactions to the deal; Hardball Talk has more.

What was it P.T. Barnum was supposed to have said?

Closer to home, old pals Johnny Damon and Manny Ramirez have agreed to join the Rays. At least it’ll be fun to see them around more often this season.

Houston Street after dark by Bags.

Bags goes to the Modern:

Peep this fun site, The Monkeys You Ordered (and thanks go to Brad for pointing it out):

Our dog is f****** huge.

Via the inimitable Pat Kiernan, yesterday’s mass mob arrests in the New York area have unearthed some fantastic new mob nicknames. As a group, mafia types really excel at the nickname, perhaps even more than ballplayers; today I thought I’d try to merge the two genres. Herewith, actual mob nicknames from the Daily News, and their imaginary position on the baseball diamond:

Tony Bagels
Two good options here: the reliable ace who keeps putting zeros up on the scoreboard, or the hapless rookie still hitting .000 two weeks into his first stint in the majors.

The Claw
Knuckleballer.

Jack the Whack
Dumb-as-a-post platooned corner outfielder who plays unfortunate defense but, at the plate, runs into one every so often and hits it to the next county.

Fat Larry
Elder-statesman DH beloved by teammates and groupies coast-to-coast.

Baby Fat
Fat Larry’s younger brother, a perenially disappointing 3B who would be more suited to DH but is just not a good enough hitter.

Jello
Popular hefty lefty starting pitcher.

Meatball
This would work for like 40% of all Major League players, actually.

Vinny Carwash
Middle reliever who’s nothing to write home about except for his one truly fantastic secondary pitch, probably a changeup.

Junior Lollipops
Light-hitting shortstop who plays just good enough defense and smacks just enough seeing-eye singles to stay in the league basically forever.

Mush
Ancient first base coach famous for his heckling gifts with regards to opponents and umps.

The Beard
I did not know Brian Wilson was a member of the Genovese crime family.

Nighthawk
You know what? I’m not going to make fun of anyone nicknamed Nighthawk. Likely not someone you want to mess with.

Baby Shacks
Former Rookie of the Year 2B who never lives up to the hype.

Mousey
Bullpen catcher and professional butt of jokes.

Johnny Glasses
Grouchy veteran umpire.

Tonight at the Walter Reade Theater, a slept-on Jeff Bridges vehicle featuring John Huston:

I can’t make it, dang it, but man, it should be a good time.

Brian Cashman’s behavior in recent weeks has some wondering if he’s auditioning for a role in a remake of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. How else to explain Cashman’s decision to throw dirt on the signing of Rafael Soriano at his Yankee Stadium press conference? It’s one thing to be honest in answering reporters questions; it’s quite another to submarine one of your newest players, a pitcher who will be extremely important to Yankee fortunes in the late innings.

And then, as if we needed more evidence of Cashman cracking under the stress, we learn that earlier this winter he actually offered Carl Pavano a one-year contract worth $10 million. After misappropriating nearly $40 million of Yankee funds on Pavano, a man who clearly had little interest in actually working (or playing) for his money, Cashman apparently felt obligated to pad Pavano’s wallet again. Either Cashman knows nothing about pitching, as his critics have maintained for years, or he knows nothing about the lack of character of certain players. Can you imagine the reaction of the New York media, not to mention Yankee fans, to the news of Carl Pavano returning to the Bronx? That would have gone over about as well as the news of Pete Rose opening up an OTB parlor next to the Hall of Fame.

So what exactly is going on with Cashman? Is he, as some conspiracy theorists maintain, greasing the skids for his own departure at the end of 2011, when his contract expires? I guess that’s as good an explanation as any, but it does little to assuage Yankee fans who are concerned about what happens over the next ten months. The Yankees still have work to do. They will need to address the issue of starting pitching at some point. They will have to decide whether to surrender Jesus Montero in any deal for a frontline starter. And they will have to make the decision of whether to trade Joba Chamberlain now, move him back to the rotation, or let him settle into an inglorious role as a sixth- or seventh-inning relief pitcher. These decisions cannot wait for Cashman’s successor; they need to be settled before or during the upcoming season.

Given some of the statements coming from Cashman of late, I’m not sure if any of these issues will be resolved properly. If that’s the case, then perhaps it will soon be time to start thinking about who will be Cashman’s successor…

***

If there’s a positive development to come out of this strange postseason, it’s this: the inability to reel in Cliff Lee has forced the organization to address other, less publicized needs, like the catching, the bullpen, and the bench. The Yankees have had plenty of money to spend on these areas, which has resulted in the net gain of Russell Martin, Rafael Soriano and Pedro Feliciano, and now Andruw Jones.

As I wrote in this space a month ago, the addition of Jones, 33, made so much sense that I thought it would never happen, and yet it did! Jones put up an OPS of .931 against left-handers last season; similar numbers should play nicely on a team that is overloaded with southpaw swinging outfielders. On any given day, Jones can spell Brett Gardner in left, Curtis Granderson in center field, or even Jorge Posada at DH. With Jones batting seventh or eighth against left-handers, the Yankees should have good balance toward the bottom of their batting order.

Defensively, Jones is not nearly the all-world center fielder he was with the Braves, but still has enough speed and arm to spell Granderson, while spending more significant amounts of time in the corners. Jones is far from the defensive liability that Marcus Thames was; as long as the Yankees don’t ask him to play the field every day, he should hold up fine in the outer pasture.

I also like Jones’ degree of postseason experience. He has played in 17 postseason series (all dating back to his days with the Braves), where he has accumulated ten home runs in 238 at-bats and reached base 36 per cent of the time. Clearly, the postseason has not fazed Jones, an important consideration for a Yankee team that has missed the playoffs only once since 1995.

For those keeping score, Jones is the first native of Curacao to play for the Yankees since Hensley “Bam Bam” Meulens in 1993. At one time a top-notch prospect in the Yankee system, Meulens never found the plate discipline that he needed to become the star the franchise had once envisioned. (He also didn’t have a position; he was too stiff to play third base, and lacked the athleticism needed to play the outfield.) But Bam Bam has found success in his second baseball life, as the batting coach of the defending champion San Francisco Giants. Giants players rave about Meulens, who coaxed a career season out of Aubrey Huff and oversaw the hitting of Rookie of the Year Buster Posey. Bam Bam’s next big project will be finding a way to fine-tune the swing of Pablo Sandoval, while also keeping him separated from the buffet table.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

Bowie Friday:

More Snow.

The beat goes on.

The great Charles Addams:

According to Jon Heyman, Andruw Jones is now a memeber of the New York Yankees.

[Photo Credit: FLC]